


We Never Talk About It

by Dznyprincess7



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29777376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dznyprincess7/pseuds/Dznyprincess7
Summary: A Romanogers AU where Nat is also a super solider and Steve/Natasha are soulmates. And Hawkeye doesn't exist because Jeremy Renner is a trash human :)
Relationships: Natasha Romanoff & Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Kudos: 34





	1. Avengers 1

Natasha Romanoff knew what some of the other SHIELD agents said about her behind her back. She wasn't an idiot. She was a spy. Which meant she was especially good at hearing things she wasn't supposed to. 

Some might call her Director Nick Fury's lapdog and she supposed that was fair, even if it was wildly inaccurate. She had been a SHIELD agent before Fury and she would be one after him. He may be her boss now, but regimes changed every day. She was good at following orders. She knew how to make herself indispensable, but obedience was not be confused with loyalty. Natasha Romanoff belonged to no one but herself.

Nat was a SHIELD shadow, which was a fancy way of saying she spent most of her days pretending to be something she wasn't in order to get people to tell her things that they shouldn't. All in all, not a bad gig. It certainly beat being brainwashed into killing people. 

It had been roughly two years since Natasha has posed as Natalie Russian in order to gain insider info on Tony Stark, the man behind the Iron Man suit. He was the first proposed recruit for Fury's Avengers Initiative. She hadn't been sent on a recruitment mission in a hot minute, though. She'd been doing more direct covert operative type work. Like right now.

Sure, Nat could understand that from where she was sitting, bound to a chair in front of her captors, it may not look like she was winning this particular mission, but looks could be deceiving.

The abandoned warehouse was dark and cold, the only sounds coming from hands smacked against Nat's face and the jangle of the chains swinging from the ceiling, waiting for her menacingly. Her chair was mere inches from a drop-off and she was working very hard to keep her weight focused forward.

Her target, Russian General Georgi Luchkov, glared at her with the same beady eyes he had been using to mentally undress her when he'd met her at the gala just hours before. Then one of his henchmen found her sneaking around one of the restricted floors and they'd brought her here. But he still didn't know who she was working for. And she intended to keep it that way. At least until she got what she came for. 

One of the henchmen grabbed the edge of her chair and tilted it backward toward the gaping hole behind her. The sheer panic on her face was only partially acting as she fought to keep one toe of her pointed pumps on the ground.

The Russian dialect tumbling off her lips came more naturally than she'd anticipated, like slipping into an old worn pair of jeans. She'd been an American citizen for decades now, yet deep down a part of her would always be connected to Russia. Today that part of her would help her finish the job. But she'd be lying if she said a part of her wasn't deeply unnerved by the knowledge that pieces of her old self still lay dormant somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind.

Meanwhile, the general prattled on, so convinced he had outsmarted her. "The famous Black Widow," he said, using her proper title in Russian, the one given to her by the KGB all those years ago-- "Chernaya vdova." He turned pitying eyes on her. "And she turns out to be simply another pretty face."

Nat pushed all her fear to the surface and forced a tremor into her voice as she asked, "You really think I'm pretty?"

The general turned away and marched over to a table he'd set up earlier with an array of tools intended for torture. A stream of sweat rolled down the nape of Natasha's neck and along the plunging back of her little black dress. It's not like she'd never been tortured before. Her Red Room training and enhanced pain tolerance made it bearable. But it was never enjoyable. Plus removing all the scars afterward was always such a process.

And then Henchmen #1's cell phone rang.


	2. Avengers 2

It was senior SHIELD agent Phil Coulson on the phone, of course, pulling the plug early on their little operation, which could only mean one thing-- they had bigger fish for her to fry. Oh, and course his first move was to threaten the Russians with a missile. Men can be so... primitive, sometimes.

General Luchkov shoved the phone to Natasha's ear and she raised her shoulder to hold it in place, since her hands were, you know, still tied behind her back.

It was ridiculous, really. She should be the most senior agent at SHIELD. She'd been there longer than Coulson or Director Fury. But no, here she was, arguing on the phone with her boss like a child being told she had to stop playing with her neighborhood friends and come in for dinner.

"We need you to come in," Coulson said.

"I'm in the middle of an interrogation," she argued, then rolled her eyes. "This moron is giving me everything."

"I don't... give everything," the general argued in heavily accented English.

Which, of course, wasn't true. The general had been so sure Natasha's information was outdated, he had only been oh too eager to correct it. Men were just so predictable. Appeal to their dick, challenge their ego and they turned to putty in your hands.

"You can't pull me out of this right now," Nat snapped, unsure why she was still having to explain things like this to her goddamn boss.

Then he said the words -- "Fury's been compromised" -- and suddenly nothing else mattered.  
"Let me put you on hold," she quipped, muscles tightly coiled, ready for battle.

As General Luchkov leaned in to take the phone back, she kicked him in the shin, hard, and used his momentary confusion to smash her skull into his, knocking him out instantly. Then she was on her feet, hands still bound now clinging to the legs of the wooden chair for leverage as she battled the other two goons. She managed to take one down while still strapped to the chair, but Henchman #2 proved a bit more... stubborn.

Nat flung herself into a front flip to break the chair over Henchman #1's back, then sprung up in time to throw Henchman #2 to the ground. 

And then because this man clearly had no idea what was good for him, General Luchkov came to and attempted to take her out. So she wrapped his ankle in the chain meant for her and left him dangling above the pit they kept threatening her with.

Then she bent to pick the discarded cell phone off the ground and retrieve her long-abandoned heels. She'd call the authorities as soon as she hung up with Coulson, tell them exactly what she knew and where to collect the general and his men. But Coulson was right. She had much more pressing matters demanding her attention at the moment.

"Where is Fury?" She demanded. "Is he alive?"

"We think so," Coulson assured her to the best of his abilities. "But that's not your mission, at least not yet."

Nat frowned. What could possibly be more urgent than recovering the director of SHIELD? "What do you need me to do?"

She could practically hear Coulson grimace on the other end of the line. "Do you remember Director Fury's Avengers Initiative?"


	3. Avengers 3

Natasha knew her role at SHIELD. She was the girl they brought in when the men weren't behaving. She had been the one sent in undercover to babysit Tony Stark when he first revealed to the world that he was Iron Man. And now she was being sent around the world to talk some of SHIELD's toughest to convince recruits into joining Nick Fury's new initiative. 

Dr. Banner's recruitment had gone well, better than expected, even. There had been zero appearances from the Big Green Guy, which she was going to consider a major win. And now she was in New York. Brooklyn, to be exact, at a rundown YMCA gym in the middle of the night. Who said being a spy wasn't glamorous?

Natasha climbed up into the rafters embedded in the gym ceiling without making a sound and stopped to watch the famed Super Soldier for a moment. He was almost completely unaware of his surroundings, sending formidable punch after formidable punch into the punching bag with increasing ferocity until it shot right off of its chains and across the gym floor in a shower of sand. Nearly unfazed, he simply shook it off and attached another bag from the sizable lineup on the floor behind him. He shook his shoulders and started in again.

Nat caught the punching bag before Steve Rogers even realized she was in the room. He stumbled back.

"Sorry," she said, pointing at the rafters. "Figure it'd be easier to just drop in."

Steve's brow furrowed. "You saw what I was doing to this punching bag and thought surprising me was a good idea?"

"You really think you're the only one who can make a punching bag cry?" She pouted, then threw a kick that sent the bag flying across the room, skittering along the floor boards. "Sorry, soldier. Try again."

Natasha took him in. The world's first superhero whose fame paved way for beings like her. He was tall, broad shouldered, sharp eyed. His white t-shirt clung to the strong muscles in his arms and chest, revealing every bit of the definition there. His soft grey sweatpants hung from his slender hips. Sweaty blond hair flopped across his forehead.

And then she watched him take her in-- tight red tank top stretching across her cleavage, black exercise leggings skimming every curve of her well-built legs and ass. Her red hair hovering just above her collar in gentle waves.

"You're--" he begins, but can't finish, truly at a loss to define the creature in front of him and what she could possibly want with him.

"Agent Natasha Romanoff." She extended her hand and he shook it.

"Captain Steve Rogers," he introduced himself as it she didn't already know exactly who he was. "You're with SHIELD."

"I am now, yeah."

"And they... made you like this? Like me?"

"No," she said quickly. "The Russians made me like this. I worked for the KGB until SHIELD offered me a way out." She raised her gaze to his. "In 1967."

He blinked hard and took half a step back. "You look good for..." He faltered, trying to complete the mental math.

"Eighty four," she finished for him.

"Eighty four," he repeated, shaking his head.

One side of her face jerked up in a smirk. "Don't worry, Cap. You don't look bad for ninety four either."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to come from the very tips of his toes, then crossed his arms and leaned back. "So, Fury sent you."

"Coulson, actually. He thought this new mission pitch might take a little extra persuasion. I'm better at that than he is," she admitted. She pulled a mission file from her back pocket and handed it to him. "I was told you're familiar with the Tesseract."

She watched his face as he took in the familiar image of an object he almost died trying to bury, watching the full knowledge of how deeply he failed sink in.

"Someone named Loki stole this from SHIELD three days ago," she reported. "We need your help to get it back."

He shut the file and pushed it back toward her. "And what makes you think I'll help you?"

"The fate of the world's on the line," she said plainly. "And saving the world is kind of your thing."

"I'm retired," he said flatly.

"Bullshit," she spat out and he flinched. Not one for cursing. Duly noted.

"Okay, fine." She put her foot up on the wooden bleachers slat behind him. "You're retired from saving the world. So, what are you doing at a YMCA by yourself at two am? Why haven't you left New York? You could be anywhere doing anything-- or anyone for that matter--and yet you're still here."

His arms tightened over his chest. "I'm guessing you have a theory as to why?"

"You and I have a lot in common, Cap. This thing running through our veins?" She nodded toward his muscles. "It does more than just make us extra strong. It makes us soldiers, gives us a drive to fight, to rid the world of bad guys and protect what's ours."

He said nothing, his jaw tightening, his lip twitching just a little.

"There's a debriefing packet waiting for you back at your apartment," she said. "Read it through, think it over or pray or whatever, and then give us a call if you want to help save the world." She pulled the picture of the glowing blue cube from the folder and slammed it down on the bleachers by his feet, nodding at it. "You know? Actually finish what you started."

"--And what you guys messed up," he finished for her, jabbing an accusatory finger in her direction, but she didn't flinch, just nodded. 

"Exactly."


	4. Avengers 4

She was striding down the airstrip when she saw him again-- Captain Steve Rogers in his loose-fitting grey slacks, classic plaid button up, worn brown leather jacket and hopelessly outdated haircut. He was being escorted from one of SHIELD's jets by Agent Coulson, who must be jumping out of his skin to be sharing the same air as such a legend. 

She was pretty sure Coulson had a crush on Rogers-- a schoolboy in the presence of his hero type thing. It was cute, really, if a bit misguided. She knew better than anyone that the Super Soldier serum changed your outsides, not your insides. All it did was amplify what was already there. Underneath all those big muscles, Steve Rogers was still just an imperfect, fallible human like the rest of them. Even in spite of his sterilized, classic Americana reputation. 

Nat knew better than almost anyone-- everyone had a dark side. Some people were just better at hiding it.

"Agent Romanoff," Coulson greeted her, then gestured to Steve. "Captain Rogers.”

She indulged Steve with a cool-eyed once-over. "Oh, we've met.”

Steve nodded at her. “Ma'am."

Nat turned her attention to Coulson. "They need you on the bridge. They're starting the face-trace.”

"See you there," the senior agent said as he headed in that direction, leaving her alone with Rogers.

She cut her eyes at him. "Glad you decided to join us.”

"I was presented with a very persuasive argument." He gave her some side eye of his own. "I just hope I'm the right man for the job.”

Her lips twitched. "I guess we'll have to wait and see.”

He responded with a grim smile. A realist. She liked that.

"So," she asked as they continued down the airstrip. "Did Coulson ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?”

Steve's eyes bugged out. "His what?”

"They're vintage," Nat quipped. "He's very proud.”

Steve still looked confused. Nat stopped.

"You still don't realize what a big deal you were? Are," she corrected herself.

"Agent Romanoff, this airstrip is the first thing that feels familiar since they dragged my freeze dried carcass out of the ice two weeks ago," he said plainly. "I thought I died and all of a sudden, I'm back and it's been sixty seven years and I'm some sort of mythical hero apparently, but I'm still just me except minus everyone I ever loved or cared about or fought beside.”

Her eyes darkened. "I'm sorry." She knew what it was like to outlive those she once cared about, to witness the deaths of friends and lovers, even her own husband. She couldn't imagine losing them all at once in an instant.

"These are good people here," she said. "And they're fighting for a good cause. I know it's not the same, but I hope you'll learn to find a home here too.”

He nodded, but it was less formal this time, more sincere. "I hope so too.”

A beat passed between them, eyes locked on one another. Natasha felt them take a breath in at the same time. She felt her mouth drift open, but to say what? 

Then—

“Natasha!"

She turned to see Dr. Bruce Banner waving frantically in her direction and all at once, remembered her mission. He had been her first recruit, even tougher to convince than Captain Rogers. Part of her job was to make sure he got acclimated as soon as possible, that he felt like part of the team. And playing friendship matchmaker for him and Rogers was a big part of that.

She motioned for Steve to follow and made her way to where the doctor was examining every grounded plane and passing agent as if any of them could trigger an appearance of the Big Guy, which she supposed, to be fair, they could.

"This is Dr. Bruce Banner," she introduced him to Steve when they got closer. "He's like you and I, except his experiment went a little sideways and now his Super Soldier is a big green guy who only shows up when he gets mad.”

"I tried to recreate the serum on my own," Banner confessed, then shrugged. "You win some, you lose some, right?”

"I guess so," Steve said warily as he reached out to shake Banner's hand. 

It was cute to see the great captain trying to acclimate to the New World. Wait till he saw what the ship could do.


	5. Avengers 5

On board the Helicarrier, Agent Maria Hill was doing an excellent job of running things in Fury's absence. Natasha could only imagine how hard it must be, taking on all of the director's special projects at once while also trying to find him and not dwelling too long on the fact that he might be already gone. 

Their first mission came swiftly as SHIELD agents finally succeeded in locating one of the million things the team was trying to find-- Loki, at the Stuttgart Museum in Germany. Agent Hill wasted no time selecting the agent for this job--- Steve, Natasha as backup. 

The team set off in the Quinjet right away. Natasha offered to give Steve the grand tour, but he politely declined, insisting Coulson had shown him every inch of the space on the way over, which she had no doubt he had. 

"Typical Coulson," Natasha teased and Steve smiled back, but the smile didn't meet his eyes. He slumped down on the bench instead and watched the scenery pass by through the front windshield. He reached absentmindedly for his jacket pocket to retrieve an ancient-looking compass that he flicked open and closed a few times. 

“What was her name?”

Steve’s head jerked up. “What?”

“The name of the girl you left back in 1945,” Natasha quipped. 

“There was no—“ Steve started, then shook his head, seemingly at least self aware enough to realize he was a terrible liar. He sighed instead. “How did you know?”

The side of her mouth twitched. “I know a little something about heartbreak, the kind that only comes from devastating loss.”

Steve leaves back into his seat, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Natasha Romanoff has a heart?”

“Had," she corrected. "And don’t tell anyone. Love is for children.”

He sighed. “Peggy Carter. Agent Carter,” he corrected himself. “We worked together in the army. She was one of the first people who believed in me.”

“That’s sweet,” Nat said and surprising them both, there was no hint of sarcasm in it.

His voice cracked. “She talked to me as the plane went down, kept me calm. I thought her voice would be the last noise I ever heard. Now all I hear is noise.”

Natasha was quiet for a moment and then finally said, “I’m sorry.”

He nodded silently. 

"I knew her," Nat said quietly and Steve's head jerked up again.

"You what?"

"I knew her," Nat repeated. "Peggy Carter? I actually knew her as Director Carter."

"She was the director of SHIELD when you started working for them?" Steve questioned, sitting up straighter. "I've been trying to piece together what happened to her, what she did once I went under."

Nat settled down on the bench next to him. "Remember when I told you SHIELD recruited me back in 1967?" He nodded. "That was a bit of an oversimplification. SHIELD captured me in 1967. The directives from the US government were clear. They were supposed to hold me long enough to find out what I knew, what the KGB's plan was for the US, and then... take care of me. Director Carter met me, talked to me, and began to believe I wasn't beyond redemption. She believed I could be saved and she convinced everyone else to give me a chance." She blinked hard. "Peggy Carter's the reason I'm still alive."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a half hearted smile. "That sounds like Peggy."

”You know she's still alive, right?"

"Yeah. Even found her number in a file SHIELD gave me."

"But you didn't call?"

"It wouldn't be the same."

”It wouldn't be the same or she wouldn't?"

He said nothing.

"Listen," Nat said. "If you don't want to talk to Peggy because you think it'll make things worse, then don't. But if there's even the tiniest of chances, it might give you the closure you're so desperate for, I say go for it." She pushed off the wall. "But, what do I know? I don't even believe in love."

"Hey, Natasha?" He called out as she started to walk away. She turned back. “What helped you get over your heartbreak?”

She smirked. “A lot of sex.”

He laughed out loud at that one. “I may have to find an... alternative method.”

She shrugged. “Maybe. If you wanna try sex though, let me know.”

And then she was up and out before he could clarify exactly what it was she was offering.


End file.
